


The Good Soulmate

by randomizer



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 00:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8869318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomizer/pseuds/randomizer
Summary: Chidi knows what a real soulmate should be like. Or does he?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyrieanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrieanne/gifts).



Chidi has been working steadily on rewriting “Who We Are, and Who We Are Not: Practical Ethics and Their Application in the Modern World” ever since Michael agreed to be his advisor. He finds that he’s much less anxious about the writing process in death than he had been in life, probably because time is comfortingly meaningless in the Good Place. He has no idea how long it takes him, for instance, to change his original title into what ultimately becomes “Who We Were, and Who We Were Not: the Application of Morality in the Afterlife,” and he finds that fact an unexpected relief.

Michael approves of the new title. “Very good work, Chidi. I especially like your shift from ‘ethics’ to ‘morality.’ It has a more dignified ring to it. Much better.”

Chidi nods, pleased that Michael has noticed that little touch. “I think so, too. I went back and forth on it, but ultimately I decided that the Kantian perspective on morality needed to be reflected in the title, even though Hume’s ethical anti-rationalism was also a consideration. Naturally, I could always handle that in another level of subtitle, if I needed to . . .”

Janet walks in at that moment. “Trevor is on the line.”

Michael sighs. “Get me the phone.” A bowl of angelfish suddenly appears in Janet’s left hand. She gives the bowl to Michael, who shakes his head.

“Janet, this is a bowl of angelfish.”

Janet nods. “Yes!”

“I wanted the phone.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Taking the bowl of angelfish away, Janet hands Michael a bright blue stuffed toy whale.

Michael sighs again, looking at Chidi. “I’ve gotten her to stop giving me cacti, but now she’s stuck on fish, all kinds of fish. This might take awhile. I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this a bit short. I have a lot to do, primarily because of our Eleanor situation. I’m sure you understand.”

Chidi nods, a little embarrassed. He should have realized; Michael is certainly too busy to analyze the word choice of his title right now. He starts to get up, but Michael holds up a hand to stop him.

“I’m sorry. I want everyone in this neighborhood to be as happy as they would have been without our little . . . trouble. You’re important. It’s just . . . we’ll talk more during our next appointment. What are you working on right now?”

Chidi hesitates, wondering if he is ready to talk about it. He decides to plunge in, whether he is or not. “Well, now that Real Eleanor is here . . . I guess I have my soulmate, finally. It’s made me think about what exactly a soulmate is, and how having one is going to affect me as an ethical being. It’s a fascinating question, really. It’s actually one that goes all that way back to Plato, who thought that . . .”

Janet appears again, this time holding a bag of goldfish crackers. “Fine, Fine. I think that’s excellent,” Michael cuts him off, wincing and looking at Chidi a little helplessly. “I’ll look forward to reading more about that the next time we meet.”

Chidi nods sympathetically, rising to leave.

 

**§§§**

_  
Before we can assess the influence of the ontological existence of a soulmate on practical ethics in the modern world, it behooves us to understand the true nature of the subject under consideration. The original Platonic conception of the soulmate was rooted in Greek mythology. According to the tenets of this mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search for their missing halves._

Chidi studies the introductory sentences to his chapter, “The Influence of the Ontological Existence of a Soulmate on the Obligations of Ethical Actors,” wondering if his reference to Plato was as clear as it ought to be. Perhaps he should write a complete chapter on Plato before attempting to analyze his influence on the theory of the soulmate. Chidi is frowning, unsure of the best course of action, when he hears a knock on his door, followed a split-second later by a decisive pounding.

“Dude? Are you in there?” Fake Eleanor is peering through his window.

(Chidi reminds himself not to call her Fake Eleanor—it’s demeaning to both Eleanors. But there needs to be _some_ way of telling them apart, and the two women, Real and Fake, seem content enough with their respective designations.)

He opens the door, and Fake Eleanor breezes in. (She does breeze; Chidi has never met another person whose walking style could be described that way.) 

“What’s up?” Fake Eleanor peers at the screen of his laptop. “You’re working on your book right _now_? Didn’t you hear about the new fro yo flavors? Last Day of School sounds great, although maybe not for you. But you have to try Start of the New Television Season. Who wouldn’t like that one? Let’s go.”

Chidi sighs, thinking about his paragraph. But he finds himself following her, even so. That’s the trouble with Fake Eleanor, always assuming that what she wants to do has to be what everyone around her wants to do. He thinks of the “Fork Off, Eleanor” sign that she had given him, the one that he had never quite wanted to use on her. Still, Real Eleanor would certainly have let him work on his book, which of course he wishes he were doing right now.

(Even though it’s a beautiful day. And even though the idea of tasting what Start of the New Television Season feels like does sound intriguing.)

Fake Eleanor knows the moment he gives in, knows before he says anything out loud. “Fly?”

He nods, and together they shoot up into the clear blue sky.

 

**§§§**

_  
True soulmates have the following characteristics. First, because they are really separate parts of the same being, they necessarily must share the most important core ethical values._

Chidi considers the sentence that he has just written, satisfied by the obvious truth of it. He thinks about a conversation that he had with Real Eleanor just the other day. He had been explaining Kant’s ethical theory to her, while she listened raptly.

“There are two different formulations of Kant’s categorical imperative. The first one is that you should never perform an action unless you could justifiably want that action to become a universal law. The second one is that you should never treat people merely as a means to an end, but also as an end in themselves.” He had paused to look at Real Eleanor, finding her gazing at him with what appeared to be pure delight.

“I don’t understand all that, but I know that it means that you should try as hard as you can to be nice to people and help them. I totally agree, and I love the way you say it.” Chidi’s cheeks feel warm; no woman had ever told him before how much she loved to hear him speak. 

Chidi shakes his head in wonderment at the memory. It doesn’t matter that Real Eleanor didn’t understand the philosophy behind what he was saying, does it? And it doesn’t matter that she didn’t seem curious to _try_ to understand. All that matters is that Real Eleanor knows what it is to care about being a decent human being. Having a true soulmate, Chidi tells himself, is really better than he had ever thought it could be. But for some reason, he suddenly recalls Fake Eleanor’s reaction to exactly the same mini-lecture.

“What do you mean, ‘want that action to become a universal law’? Every single action? Like, going to get frozen yogurt? I can’t do that unless I want, like, _everyone_ to get frozen yogurt, always?” Fake Eleanor’s mind is stuck on frozen yogurt all too often. Michael is right—people just can’t help loving the stuff.

Chidi had frowned at her. “Not _every_ action. Just every ethical decision.”

“But how do you know you’re making an ethical decision until you’ve already made it?” It had gone on like this for awhile, and Chidi was never certain that he had really explained himself well enough for Fake Eleanor to accept what Kant had meant. That was the trouble with Fake Eleanor: she loved to argue with him, to bait him, to annoy him. Real Eleanor never did anything like that to him. At all, ever.

 

**§§§**

_  
Second, they support and nurture each other unconditionally; because they are so much alike, they are in the unique position to understand each other’s thoughts and feelings._

Chidi has never had anyone in his life like Real Eleanor. When he feels like Thai takeout, he can be certain that Real Eleanor will also want Thai takeout at that exact same moment. Even better, she’s always happy to share whatever she’s ordered with him, and it’s always just as delicious as what his own choice had been.

(Fake Eleanor never wants to share any of her food. “Order your own, doofus. It’s the Good Place. There’s no money here!” They’d usually end up arguing over the ethical obligation of generosity, even in a place like this, where no sacrifice for that generosity is required. Chidi remembers once when this argument went on for several hours, their dinners forgotten and cold. He never did manage to convince Fake Eleanor that she was wrong, but the next morning he revised several paragraphs of his manuscript because of an idea sparked by the whole irritating encounter.)

 

**§§§**

_  
Finally, again because they are parts of a single unified whole, soulmates have the same idea of what constitutes an enjoyable and fulfilling life, so that they can share that life with each other in perfect harmony._

There’s no doubt about it, Chidi and Real Eleanor both want exactly the same things out of the afterlife. Chidi had spent his entire time on earth trying to understand the fundamental truths of the universe. He barely scratched the surface, and now he has eternity to work on it with his soulmate, a woman who by definition cares deeply about everything that is important to him. And yet . . . Chidi sometimes has a nagging feeling that Real Eleanor isn't genuinely interested in philosophy: she wants to help others, yes, but she's not fascinated the way he is about analyzing the ethics behind her actions. Still, that doesn’t mean that they disagree on the best way to live, not at all. Real Eleanor respects his work, and he respects hers. They do have a harmony, a perfect harmony, and it feels wonderful. It couldn’t be better.

Once again, Chidi’s mind flickers over to Fake Eleanor, even as he tells himself to stop the comparisons. He and Fake Eleanor couldn’t be more different in their ideas about an enjoyable and fulfilling existence; she, after all, had spent most of her time on earth trying to avoid real human interaction in favor of the Instagram feeds of celebrities. What kind of a life was that? He suddenly recalls another one of their many arguments. What was it that she had said? “Going out after hours with people that you work with is weird and creepy. Who would do that?”

Chidi had challenged her on that—people go out with their _friends_ , and there’s nothing weird or creepy about it. Fake Eleanor had mocked him in her weirdest, creepiest voice, and he had laughed in spite of himself. It was only later that he’d realized that he himself really didn’t have friends that he went out with either, not really. There were his students, of course, but he had tended to post their assignments on web sites and communicate mostly by email. There was his girlfriend, but they were both usually too busy to do things socially.

Chidi is pretty certain that Real Eleanor had many friends on earth, and for some reason he finds that idea a little unsettling. He pushes the thought away when he hears a characteristic pounding on his door. Fake Eleanor, again. Chidi shakes his head, smiling and sighing simultaneously as he opens it.

“Still working? Let’s see this ethical masterpiece.” Fake Eleanor pushes past Chidi and bends over to squint at the laptop screen, reading his paragraph. Chidi thinks about snapping the screen shut, thinks about “Fork Off, Eleanor,” but for some reason he’s curious about what she might have to say.

“I dunno, pal. I don’t know much about soulmates—I’m not even supposed to be here, so of course Michael doesn’t have any soulmate tucked away in the neighborhood for me. But don’t you think that what you’re talking about is a little, well, a LOT . . .”

“What?” Chidi bristles. “A lot too perfect? A lot too fulfilling?”

“A lot too . . . boring. Wouldn’t you get sick of agreeing all the time, liking all the same food and wanting all the same things? Don’t you think _not_ agreeing might be a little more fun? I mean, how else would you ever change your mind about anything? Do you want to have exactly the same ideas for, like, eternity?”

Chidi stares at her, wondering. Fake Eleanor notices that flash of indecisiveness. Usually she would take that as a sign to go in for the mocking kill, but for some reason, this time she pulls back. “But what do I know? Like I said, no soulmate here. It’s cool that you got yours. No matter how sickening the two of you are.” She snorts.

“Yeah.” Chidi says the word slowly, absently, looking at her more intently than he normally does. Fake Eleanor scoffs to break the tension. “Bro, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I can actually understand what you’re writing. That might be a first!”

Chidi shakes his head and closes the laptop. But later, after Fake Eleanor has left, he starts a new paragraph in his analysis of the true relationship between soulmates:

_Of course, the exact opposite might be true._

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, kyrieanne! I hope this little fic pleases you. You didn't give me a lot to work with! :-)


End file.
